


The Adventures of Team Gilgamesh

by SuneDunes



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Fate, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24111778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuneDunes/pseuds/SuneDunes
Summary: An emergency rayshift forces the Master of Chaldea, a fictional samurai, an idiotic pirate, and an obsessive stalker into a fierce, life-threatening battle against a dragon. When all seems lost, the Master's trump card comes into play - the King of Heroes himself, Gilgamesh!...they just have to convince him to help.
Relationships: Fujimaru Ritsuka & Edward Teach | Rider, Fujimaru Ritsuka & Gilgamesh | Archer, Fujimaru Ritsuka & Kiyohome | Berserker, Fujimaru Ritsuka & Mash Kyrielight | Shielder, Fujimaru Ritsuka/Kiyohime | Berserker, Sasaki Kojirou | Assassin & Fujimaru Ritsuka
Kudos: 10





	The Adventures of Team Gilgamesh

“Senpai!”

That familiar worried cry alerted the Master of Chaldea to his situation, startling him into consciousness. He opened his eyes to the calming ocean of blue high above, the occasional fluff of white cloud gliding by. Rather less pleasing was the site of a bevy of servants gathered around him, leaning over, staring down expectantly.

“Oh, how wonderful. It appears the cries of the maiden have awoken Master. Hmph, unsurprising for such a beautiful lady,” said the Assassin with the smooth voice and oversized sword, his mouth upturned into a knowing grin.

“Argh, that’s a lie! It was me that woke you up Master, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it? And don’t lie to me, Master, tell me!” cried the committed Berserker with a particular distaste for untruths, arching increasingly closer to his face.

“Aw, how beautiful. How I wish ‘me luck with ladies was as great as yers, Master! And why not? I’m charming and ripped, and sooooo cute!” screamed the croaky voice of the perverted Rider, furiously licking his lips.

Drawing a heavy sigh, Master broke through the crowded circle, bringing himself to his feet. Looking beyond himself, he recognized the grassy plains and quiet villages of 15th Century France.

The flames of Jeanne d’Arc Alter and lunatic ravings of Gilles de Rais were long banished, and the effects of war nowhere to be seen. Contrasting the cacophonous Servants now bickering behind him, the scene before him was one harmonious tranquility. Sheep grazed on distant hills, and an old windmill turned away happily; it appeared there were no enemies in sight.

“Mash? Dr Roman?” said the Chaldean Master.

“S-senpai!”

This time Mash’s shout was one of relief, almost as though she had begun to cry.

“I-I was worried about you, but it’s good to see you are okay!” she said with a mixture of brightness and worry, “I kept an eye on your vitals and they appeared well, b-but…but…”

“Th-thank you, Mash,” replied Master sheepishly. The two waited in silence, almost as though they were too nervous to make the next move.

“Um, I…”

It was finally Master who spoke.

“I’m not really sure what the emergency is here. There’s no enemies here,” he said.

“Oh…” begun Mash, her voice quickly becoming more ominous. “W-with your demeanour, I-I assumed…” she trailed off.

“Assumed?” responded Master inquisitively, scratching his head in confusion.

She started, “W-well, it’s just…”

The loud smack of hands hitting a desk cut her off.

“Master, are you telling me that great source of magical energy right behind you is still there?!” boomed a frantic Dr Roman, abruptly, his voice full of stunned exasperation. “T-the dragon, it’s literally right behind you!”

It was at this point the Master heard that one sound no mage ever wishes to hear.

“Fufuhahahahaha!”

Master felt a chill down his spine. Even the other servants, whose agitated conversation went uninterrupted even in the presence of Roman’s panic or the presence of a potentially life-threatening dragon, was swiftly brought to a close. That single, elongated laugh left all four bodies struck with fear.

Discarding his temporary annoyance at having been dragged into such a pointless, throwaway mission, the King of Heroes took time out of his day to thoroughly laugh at the misfortune of his Master. His entire body shook with erupted joy, as he buried his face within the golden armour of his hand.

“Fool! Are you saying that you honestly did not know the dragon was standing there? This is too unbelievable that I must laugh! Fuhahahaha!” said Gilgamesh, his voice wavering with happiness. “Hohoho, you are almost too amusing, Mongrel.”

Not a single other soul took enjoyment in his pleasure.

Trying to take his mind off the Archer’s incessant mocking, he prepared himself to fight the Dragon ahead. To this point, it had been remarkably patient towards the party, as though waiting for them to make the first move. Using this time to his advantage, he arranged his servants, placing them in battle position – Assassin at the front, with Rider behind him, and Berserker further back still. Too far back, in fact.

“Oh Master, please warmly embrace me! Protect me in this fight, would you?”, she spoke softly, yet with a disturbing underlying menace that forced Master’s entire self to quiver in fear, “I’m _so_ terribly unsuited to fighting, especially against such a hideous beast.”

After finally pushing her forward into the fray – a tremendous effort, made more difficult in having to prevent an overenthusiastic Rider from getting involved – he scanned the battlefield before him. Suddenly, an idea came to mind. Turning to face the one servant standing far off to the side, away from everyone else, he spoke thus:

“Gilgamesh, use Ea!”

"..."

This triumphant cry, uttered without so much as a Command Seal, was a grave mistake.

Slowly, yet inevitably, Gilgamesh turned to face his Master. And then, summoning greater ferocity than even that most fiercest of dragons, the legendary Fafnir, the King of Heroes folded his arms, and abandoned his happy disposition. His face was contorted into rage, his voice full of disdain.

“Fool…” he began, his voice rising, “How dare you presume to address me in such a way! Know your place, Mongrel! You have the arrogance to preumse to _order me_ to use Ea?”

The Master stood, frozen in fear. He’d forgotten about the Dragon, as undoubtedly the biggest threat in 15th century France was his own servant.

“Tell me, Mongrel!” continued Gilgamesh, still shouting, “Why shouldn’t I cut you down right here?”

Beside his head, a single golden sword emerged from the Gate of Babylon, aimed directly at Master. Time appeared to stop for that solitary moment – Master, in his fear, had no answers. Even a Command Seal would not be enough, not against a servant as powerful as Gilgamesh.

“Never fear, Master! For I, the courageous pirate Blackbeard, am here!”

Without warning, Blackbeard rushed beside his Master, blocking the sword’s path. He stood with arms far apart, offering his chest as a sacrificial landing spot.

“Hmph, he is so confusing,” murmured Kiyohime, the Berserker, from afar, “His chest is so muscular, yet he’s still…so disgusting. Even his muscles are disgusting.”

Fortunately, Blackbeard’s focus was concentrated elsewhere, on something far more urgent, significantly more important.

“See, Mash-chan! Look how brave Blackbeard is!” said Blackbeard, once again becoming _too_ enthusiastic, “Hohohoho, I should be rewarded for this! Perhaps a little kiss on the cheek when we return to Chaldea, Mash-chan? Hohohoho, or maybe if I- gah!”

It took but a solitary sword landing at his feet to send the mighty Blackbeard into full treat. But so furious was the King that even this occurrence, normally eliciting a mild snigger, was ignored. With the path now reopened, he called forth a second sword from his vast treasury. Master watched as it glided through its golden portal, his instrument of death.

But then, the true saviour appeared.

“Roarrrrr!”

The dragon, seemingly tired of being ignored by its enemies, called out angrily to the sky, and began charging the servant’s position. Gilgamesh, monetarily distracted by this development, redirected the sword and fired it at the dragon. It flinched as the blade pierced its flesh, before regaining its momentum.

“Hmph, you’re fortunate this time, Mongrel,” said Gilgamesh, somewhat perturbed by the interruption. “I will spare you. And to think that I wasted one of my precious blades from my Treasury in the cause of fighting this beast. There, be grateful. But I refuse to waste anymore.”

And with that, the King of Heroes walked away from his Master, and the fight, leaving his fellow servants behind. After a couple of moments, he summoned a small throne, and sat, dispassionately observing the battle. This left Master with Assassin, Rider, and Berserker at his disposal. And, to his dismay, the latter was again by his side.

“Oh, do not worry, Master. I’m sure we can defeat him,” she said, sidling up towards him. He nodded awkwardly in response, while subconsciously noting that _she_ had not come forward to rescue him when Gilgamesh was about to kill him. She opened her mouth as if again to speak, but before she could continue, the enemy dragon’s roar caused her to jump; and Master, in his infinite wisdom, chose to use the opportunity to open up a gap between them.

“Oh? M-Master-”

“Everyone!”

Master wisely called out his battle cry to cut her off. With his greatest asset off the table, his mind ran frantically looking for a solution. This team, it had to be said, was not the answer for taking out dragons. In fact, _this_ team was not the answer to anything. Bizarrely, a fake samurai, otaku pirate, and psychopathic dragon-girl lacked synergy. Who knew?

They had only been thrust together by chance, having all been in the Rayshift room at the time the emergency alarms had rung throughout Chaldea. Master himself had ran in for the rayshift, and any servants in the surrounding area were taken. These were those servants – Assassin, Rider, and Gilgamesh. Even now, he was slightly confused why Kiyohime was here.

Amidst all these thoughts, an ingenious idea claimed him yet again.

“Kojirou! You should be good at fighting these things, right?” he said confidently, yet his speech became more breathy as the situation increasingly intensified, “I mean, your hidden technique is Swallow Reversal, and a dragon is, uh, similar, I mean it has wings, it’s just a little bigger.”

The fictional Assassin merely stared at his Master, mouth agape. He had no retort. Some say that in the distance, a callous, kingly laugh reached the heavens.

“B-Blackbeard, launch your Noble Phantasm! Blackbeard…?”

To Master’s surprise, the great scourge Blackbeard, the world’s most famous pirate, was curled up into a ball on the floor, gently weeping to himself.

Master turned back to face the dragon. He was out of options.

“We’re out of options,” he said, meaning to mutter it under his breath, yet in the panic of the situation managed to blurt out loud, “The dragon is going to kill us all, and if Gil- I mean, the King of Heroes, doesn’t help, we’re out of options…”

“Master, I am here for you~!”

“We have no one left. There is nothing left,” Master rambled, his face contorting into anxious fear, “We’re going to die here, and there’s almost nothing I can do about it…”

“Master, my love for you is true and knows no bounds, I will defeat the enemy!”

“There is no hope left…”

Master collapsed to his knees in despair.

But behind him, something truly miraculous happened. A gust of wind and magical energy filled the air; a majestic radiance consumed Master, as he turned to observe the spectacle. And through it all stepped out his true saviour. At first he was confused – this was not his servant. Yet here they were, at his hour of need.

“I appear as support from a trusted ally. My name is Artoria Pendragon, King of Britain.”

…

_Thank the Grail for Support Servants._


End file.
